Blood Lust Fever F
by PrettySoldierSailorNightshade
Summary: I'm a scouter for a music company for London, and when I moved here my husband's health started to decline. And on my way home from work today, this strange man followed me home... funny, his skin is the same pale color Jeffery's has become... and those y


A/N: This story has very nothing to do with Dracula, save the fact that it's about a vampire. If anything, it's got a bit of Niel Gaiman's _Underworld_, and some Anne Rice, but she doesn't want her work written about (poo on you Anne!), so, I put it here, where I hope vampire lovers such as myself may read it. Enjoy.

Blood-lust Fever

As I was packing up my portfolio that day, I had no idea what was going on at home. Jeffrey was already there, and had stopped on his way home and gotten some dinner. He'd been doing that a lot lately, stopping on his way home and not waiting for me so we could eat together. He hadn't been himself lately; he'd been getting quieter, thinner, and his skin looked as though no drop of blood graced his body. Since we moved to London he'd been doing downhill this way, and I was getting worried.

Jeff was a musician by nature, small and quiet with a good ear. Most recently he'd been holing up in his recording studio working on a new piece during the day, with the shades drawn and the heat turned down, barely eating and only coming out at night. His new piece was eerie and sad, with a lot of minor chords and slow depressing solos. Nothing other then a sense of sheer gloom permeated the apartment whenever he practiced or constructed. His studio, being full to bursting with musical instruments of every shape and size, echoed the music down the hallway into the sitting room, where I sat reading, perturbed and distraught. Many a time I tried to confront him, but was merely able to gain his attention, for I was too worried by his pallid features to ask him of his doings.

I presently work at a record company as a scout. I look for the new and talented youths that seem to be in far too much of abundance in London. I pulled my portfolio together and stepped out to the curb with my jacket and bag, ready to hail a cab, but was flagged down by a nearby soapbox preacher instead.

"Do you presently know what time it be, M'am?" It was nearing dusk and I was anxious to get home, so I quickly glanced at my watch, but was reprimanded. "I do not mean physical time, but the time which is upon us," preparing myself for a religious sermon, I started to walk away. "Please M'am, your husband at home, he's not well." This made me stop mid stride and turn back to him.

"What do you know of my husband?"

"You should bring to him the word of your heart. The time nears for him to return to the hands of his creator, go to him, quickly, tell him of your thoughts." I stared at him a moment longer, and deciding he was merely an insane homeless man, shook my head and walked away.

It was still early in the evening, rush hour had yet to set in. The streets were fairly empty, as were the sidewalks. The air was crisp and cool on my face as I walked, and though it was overcast and gray I decided to continue my way on foot, I was early yet and Jeff wouldn't be expecting me. Passing an outdoor market I paused for a moment, debating on getting something for dinner. But the words of the man on the soapbox weighed heavy on my mind, so I stepped on at a brisk pace, humming the tune of a band I had heard earlier that day, trying to assure myself that I was just being a fool and everything would be fine when I got home. Jeff would be in his studio when I walked in the door, playing his sad song just as he was yesterday when I stepped over the threshold.

Coming to a corner, I stopped and waited for the light to change to let me cross, and out of the corner of my eye I saw something moving in the shadows. It was not a rare occurrence for the people that dwelled in the London underground to come up to the Above occasionally, as I assumed it was and glanced to my left to get a better look at the poor creature, but what I found mystified me. It was a man, handsome, with chiseled features and long body; his clothing was elegant and streamlined, or would have been, if he had lived in the late eighteen hundreds. He had a grin on his face and was staring straight back at me. I stood a bit straighter and reverted my gaze back to the light, wishing it would not be so agonizingly slow. I heard him shift and walk up behind me. Looking around, I noticed we were the only ones on the street, all the cars had driven away, nobody presided on the sidewalk, and all the birds had either flown away or gone quiet.

"Jeffrey spoke of your beauty, but he was unable to tell of your magnificence. You are stunning, my lady. Please, would you accompany me to dinner?" Jeffrey. Why was everyone talking about Jeffrey? The light changed and I walked across the street, wishing I had decided to take a cab.

"I'm sorry sir, I really must be getting home. But tell me," I paused on the other side of the curb, and was startled when I turned to find his face next to mine. "How did you come to know Jeffrey?" He grinned a devilish grin and stood up straight.

"We are acquaintances from work. I met him one day on his way home as I have you. I believe he was waiting for this very light when we first met." I didn't like the odds. This man had the same dead looking skin that Jeff's had paled to in the past few weeks, and the sharp points of the man's teeth rather bothered me. I saw it frequently in my line of work, people who had their teeth filed to look that way. It was not a look I was afraid of, and yet, somehow, these both scared and mystified me. My eyes wandered from his mouth upward to his eyes, and then I decided I needed to continue onward to home. They were black as night, deep as an ocean, and luminous. Jeff's had become the same way even in the darkness of his studio. They had been dark to begin with, but they had gained a new luster that sent chills down my spine when I met with them.

The man continued to follow me down the street, and as we neared my building I began to fret over how I was going to lose him. I slowed my pace, he followed suit. I wove as far as I could to the inside of the sidewalk; he remained the same distance away no matter which way I went.

"If I didn't know better I would have said that you were trying to lose me." His words startled me, as they had just crossed my mind. The stairs leading to my apartment building loomed next to me, and I turned to the stranger.

"Thank you for walking me home sir, but this is my building, and my husband will be waiting." I walked up a few steps and turned back to him.

"You said Jeffrey spoke of me, but he's never spoken of you. What might your name be?"

"Ah, how rude of me, I never introduced myself. My name is Orelen. Yes, Jeffrey did speak of you, of your radiant beauty, but words did you no justice. I believe I will be able to set my eyes on you again, for this will not be our last meeting. Good evening to you my lady." He bowed to me and walked back the way we came. I watched his retreating back for a moment and turned to the front door. Pulling out my keys I entered the foyer, walked the length of the hallway, and moved to unlock the door to our apartment. It startled me to find it unlocked. Panic started to edge it's way into my mind. I never left the door unlocked. Stepping through the doorway I set my bag and keys down in the hall. Listening for the sounds of Jeff's guitar coming from the studio in the back of the apartment. There was silence.

"Jeff? I'm home." I walked down the hallway to the kitchen. Everything was as I had left it this morning. Except for a closed notebook on the table, everything seemed as though I were the only one to disturb its silence all day. But still, no music.

"Jeff?" I turned from the kitchen into the living room. It was as the kitchen was, undisturbed and as I had left it this morning. A dead silence screamed through the apartment, and it was deafening. I glanced out the sliding glass door to the balcony. It was dark as midnight. I hadn't recalled it getting dark on my walk home, but I suppose I had been preoccupied. I turned on a standing lamp and moved to the back hallway.

"Jeffrey? Where are you?" The hallway was darker then the living room had been, laving me with goose bumps and a chill down my spine. Knocking on the door to his studio room I again repeated his name. "Jeff? Are you in there?" A muffled groan emitted from behind the door, and I knew instantly something was wrong. I tried the door, and found it locked. I threw my weight against it, but I was small, and the doors were solid oak. Panic was racing along with my heart. "Jeff! Jeffrey, open this door!" I heard another groan and a crash from one of his sets of drums. Throwing my weight against the door again I grew increasingly more panicked. "Jeff?!" This time I heard a scramble, and I felt the lock click my hand. Swinging the door open I barely suppressed a scream at what I saw.

"Help. Please, help me." Jeff was sprawled out on the floor, paler, if possible, then before. His body was twisting and writhing in pain, and his eyes were cold and frantic. I knelt down beside him and pulled him to me. Blood leaked from two parallel pinpricks in his neck, staining his t-shirt. "Please. Make it stop. It hurts. So badly." I searched the floor around him, searching for what could have made him this way.

"It will only hurt for a moment longer." That voice. I twisted on the floor and looked up at the intruder in my home.

"You! What did you do to him?" I stood up, staring Orelen straight in the eye.

"His body is dying. He's becoming a creature of the night." A wave of air next to me suggested that Jeff had stood up. Turning to him, I was frightened by the man I was fronted with. He was beautiful; his hair floated about his face, his skin was as white as bone, and his eyes were glassy and bright, such as new marbles.

"Welcome to a new life Jeffrey. You must be hungry. Eat, it will make you feel better." I heard the voice behind me, but I didn't understand the words he said. Eat? Eat what? And then I knew. Eat. He was a vampire. The pinpricks, the dying of his body, he was a vampire. And I realized. I ran; ran from the studio through the living room, to the front hallway. I hadn't turned the light on when I came in, so it was still dark there, and it was where Jeff caught me. He grabbed me from behind and wrestled me to the ground. He wasn't a large man, but he was strong and tall.

"Don't fight me. Just let it wash over you, you will enjoy it." His deep voice was reassuring, and I did stop fighting. I let him wrap me in his arms and tangle me in his legs. There, pinpricks. The pain only lasted a second, but the relief washed over me like a wave. All the stress from work, from worrying about Jeff, it was all gone. All I wanted to do was sleep. I felt so thick and sluggish; I let the darkness overtake me. And then there was nothing.

The blood-lust fever overtook me immediately. I could feel the need, the wanting in the pit of my stomach, and then it moved its way throughout my body like an ache. I needed to drink, from someone, anyone, I had a taste, and now I must have more. Then there was pain. An all mighty pain like nothing I could have even described. It consumed me, all I saw were the black and white pictures of my life roll before me like a film, and then relief. Gone was the pain of death, and gone was the pain of mortal life. I was free, free to spend eternity in the darkness, with my musical prince.


End file.
